


Ride the Bull

by officialvarrictethras



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Light BDSM, Light Bondage, NSFW, Rope Bondage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-03
Updated: 2014-05-03
Packaged: 2018-01-21 18:05:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1559303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/officialvarrictethras/pseuds/officialvarrictethras
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt from Tumblr -- "Imagine a dom Lady Cadash who ties Iron Bull up and rides the fuck out of him. Among other things."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ride the Bull

Iron Bull finds life to be one big joke. He’s always laughing or smiling, his one undamaged eye glinting with mirth. He laughs when he kisses her, he laughs when she blushes, he laughs when his mouth suckles at her throat. 

But there comes a day when he isn’t laughing.

That day begins like any other, and ends much the same as well. The one difference was the long length of silken rope she produces as she walks towards him. There’s a smile on her cherry-red lips that has Iron Bull half hard already. He puts forth a valiant effort to return her smile, but there’s something  _dangerous_  about hers that sets him on edge. _  
_

She crawls onto his larger-than-average bed, the rope coiled around one fist, and slides herself up his body, until she’s sitting astride his hips. The heat behind her gaze sends electric shocks straight to his groin. She leans in to steal a hot kiss, and while she has him distracted, one of his wrists is suddenly restrained, tied to the headboard.

He looks at it, utterly flabbergasted, and flexes his fingers.

"What is this?" he asks gruffly, and she only smiles, a secretive thing that makes his stomach clench painfully.

His other wrist soon joins its twin on the other side of the headboard, and now he can’t move either of them. He can’t touch her. 

He isn’t smiling anymore.

"Cadash —"

"Shh," she commands, silencing him with a languid stroke through his leggings. She draws her hand away and his hips follow. He actually  _whines_  when he loses the contact, and she laughs. Iron Bull huffs, scowling at her smile and silently cursing her to the Void. But now she’s slowly unlacing her bodice, keeping his gaze, and… he can’t think. The bodice falls away and then she lifts the cotton chemise up and over, and tosses it aside.

_Maker have mercy_ , she’s not wearing a breast band. His hands struggle against the restraints, but she’s pretty good at tying knots.

She shifts to yank down his leggings, freeing his straining erection. He groans when her hands give him another stroke, and now she’s lying flat between his legs, and —

He moans helplessly as her tongue laves against the hardened flesh.

Her mouth is hot and wet and  _shit_ , where did she learn to do that? Her tongue is doing marvellous things to the underside of his erection now, her fingers splayed wide across his naked thighs. He groans through clenched teeth, his eye transfixed on her face as she takes as much of him into her mouth as she can.

He almost comes right then and there. But she pulls away with a sigh before he can, leaving his hips bucking into the air, blindly, needing the wet warmth of her mouth to envelop him again.

Another whine escapes him, and he finds himself pleading for release.  _Please, please, my lady, I will do anything…_

Cadash shifts, and with some careful maneuvering, wriggles herself free of her own leggings and they join the rest of their clothes on the floor. He strains against the ropes, wishing for the strength to yank his hands free and ravish her until she begs for more.

She’s crawling up the length of his body now, slowly, fluid and lithe, and when she comes to his hips, she sinks down onto him without hesitation. He sees stars. He can’t  _breathe_  for a moment, gasping at the warmth of her. 

But he barely has time to adjust, because she’s moving, one hand coming out to grasp his horns for leverage as she rides him. Her other hand comes up to cup her own breast, and from the creaking of the ropes and the sudden tautness of his biceps, she knows it drives him mad.

He lasts for longer than expected, half driven by spite. But even his stubborn ass can’t hold out forever. She comes at least twice, he knows, from the way she arches and cries out, and  _damn her_ , he cannot touch those marvellous tits she hangs in his face.

He pushes himself to his own completion, bucking his hips ferociously against hers, treasuring each shocked gasp he elicits. Finally,  _finally,_  he achieves orgasm, and after so much teasing, it’s tainted with a throbbing undercurrent of pain, which somehow makes it all the more delicious for them both. 

"Release me," he demands, when she sits up finally. She’s got the  _audacity_ to actually smile.

And now she’s too overcome with a fit of giggles to move.

"What’s so funny?"

She wipes a tear from the corner of her eye and sighs, grinning.

"I rode the Bull!"


End file.
